


Let them eat cake

by notallbees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage, Minor Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, No Spoilers, Post-Canon, Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, Sleepy Sex, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallbees
Summary: "But the point remains," Claude continued, his voice turning sly. "You're embarrassed."Lorenz's flush deepened. "No, I—""You've always found that actdistasteful," Claude continued, moving closer."Claude, stop it," Lorenz protested, but in vain. For his sins, he'd married the only man in Fódlan more stubborn than he was.Claude wants to introduce Lorenz to the act of analingus. Lorenz is more than a little resistant.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 52
Kudos: 342





	Let them eat cake

**Author's Note:**

> i did it. this is the sappiest thing i've written in months. maybe ever. thank you so much to chryselis for the once over!!  
> 
> 
> please enjoy the very unsubtle ~homage to wilde's importance of being earnest.

It was late, and Lorenz was thoroughly exhausted by the time he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. Claude was already there, struggling drunkenly out of his ceremonial outfit, and Lorenz paused to steady him by the elbow before he continued around to his own side of the bed to undress. 

"I think that went rather well," Claude said, giving up on removing his smallclothes and flopping back onto the bed instead. He tilted his head back to look up at Lorenz upside down. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Lorenz nodded. "Certainly. One more glass of the Chateau Vert and I think you'd have had them eating quite literally out of the palm of your hand."

"You flatter me," Claude said, grinning up at him. He reached over his head, gesturing for Lorenz to come closer. "Come over here and flatter me some more."

"You turn into quite the cad when you've been drinking, did you know?" Lorenz told him in a sniffy voice.

Claude bellowed with laughter, holding his stomach. It was a charming sight, to see him so happy, so free. Claude had so many cares resting upon him these days; Lorenz couldn't help but feel that his smiles came more rarely of late, and he dearly wished he could do something to alleviate his burdens. For the meantime, he leaned over, holding his hair to one side, and kissed Claude's laughing mouth softly. 

As he pulled away again, Claude slipped an arm around his neck and pulled him back down to kiss him again, deepening it this time, his tongue chasing into Lorenz's mouth. It was awkward and strange, kissing him the wrong way up, but thrilling in a way things seldom were in the bedroom after five years of marriage between two people as busy as they were. Lorenz blinked when Claude finally released him, recovering himself slowly. 

"I did," Claude said, gazing up at him again with a pleased grin on his face. 

"Did what?" Lorenz asked, a little lost.

Claude snorted. "Know that I'm a cad. You've told me before."

"Have I?" Lorenz said airily. "It must be true then." He retreated, and continued to undress, aware of Claude's heavy gaze on him as he stripped off his shirt and laid it aside. "Incidentally," he said, as he slipped his breeches down to his knees. "What were you and the Dagdan Ambassador giggling about? I've never seen the man laugh like that."

"You were sitting right there," Claude said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Didn't you hear?"

"Oh, I couldn't understand a word either of you were saying," Lorenz huffed, shaking his head. Stepping out of his clothes, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his hairbrush. "Something about kitchens."

Claude chuckled. "Cleaning up the kitchen?"

"Quite," Lorenz said, gathering his hair over his shoulder and beginning to brush it with firm strokes. "I don't see what on earth is so funny about—" He trailed off as he was interrupted by the sound of Claude's laughter once more, making the bed tremble beneath him. Lorenz turned to look down at him. "What _is_ the matter with you?"

"Lorenz," Claude managed between soft peals of laughter. "Dear one, please—tell me you're teasing me."

Lorenz bristled. "Certainly not. I ask merely for information—"

"Oh, I think you know more than you realise," Claude said, voice warm with amusement. He rolled over and shuffled up onto his knees, moving closer to Lorenz's back. "May I?" he asked, reaching over Lorenz's shoulder to the hand holding the hairbrush. 

After a brief hesitation, Lorenz placed the brush into Claude's hand, and straightened his shoulders as Claude gently gathered up handfuls of his hair. He shivered as Claude began to drag the brush through his hair, brushing from his scalp right to the tips. It had been weeks since they'd managed more than a few minutes alone in one another's company, and for a few moments Lorenz let himself forget about his annoyance, and the tightly packed schedules that had kept them apart. He leaned back against his husband with a sigh, eyes falling shut, a shiver rolling over him in response to Claude's gentle movements. 

"The Dagdan Ambassador," Claude said softly, just as Lorenz was beginning to feel as though he might fall asleep, "is a great fan of bawdy jokes."

Lorenz sniffed. "I read the same dossier as you did, Claude. I'm aware—"

"He's a particular fan of jokes that humiliate the royal family of Faerghus."

"Goddess preserve us," Lorenz murmured, sighing. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing inflammatory," Claude assured him, in a voice that was not at all reassuring. "I merely made a little joke about someone cleaning His Majesty's kitchen."

Lorenz clicked his tongue. "And I suppose you don't mean the servants."

Claude chuckled. "No, beloved. It's a euphemism."

"I gathered. What does it mean?"

"To stimulate one's partner's anus with one's tongue."

Lorenz choked. "I _beg_ your pardon?" he screeched, turning so quickly that his hair snagged and pulled painfully. 

"Careful," Claude chided him gently, using deft fingers to untangle him. He smoothed the brush through Lorenz's hair once more, returning the abused lock of hair to order. "There, all better."

"Are you telling me," Lorenz said in a low voice, "that you made a joke about someone—doing _that_ to King Dimitri at a political dinner just now?"

Claude huffed. "In my defense, it was much funnier in context."

"Claude!"

"Lorenz," Claude said, a fond smile curving his lips. "Are you upset because you think I'm going to cause an international incident, or because you're scandalised by my choice of conversation topic?"

Lorenz flushed, but he straightened up and squared his shoulders. "I am not _scandalised_ ," he said in a snippy tone. "But I _am_ baffled that you felt it was appropriate to—"

"Alright, alright," Claude said, holding up both hands in surrender. "Perhaps it wasn't my most...diplomatic dinner, blame the Chateau Vert for that—"

"Claude."

"But the point remains," Claude continued, his voice turning sly. "You're embarrassed."

Lorenz's flush deepened. "No, I—"

"You've always found that act _distasteful_ ," Claude continued, moving closer. 

"Claude, stop it," Lorenz protested, but in vain. For his sins, he'd married the only man in Fódlan more stubborn than he was. 

With surprising grace for someone who'd had so much to drink, Claude slid a knee over Lorenz's hips and planted himself neatly in his lap. Still holding the hairbrush, he tucked the end of it under Lorenz's chin and tipped his flushed face up. "Is it really such an awful prospect?" he purred, his bright eyes heavy with intent, eyelashes lowered. Between them, Lorenz could feel Claude's burgeoning arousal. "It's terribly _intimate_ you know," Claude continued, voice like velvet. 

Lorenz's mouth was dry. He swallowed tightly, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "There are plenty of ways to be intimate."

"Granted," Claude said, shifting his weight slightly so that they were pressed closer together. "But I happen to particularly enjoy this one."

"Claude…" Lorenz muttered, placing his hands on Claude's slender hips. He pressed his fingers into Claude's thighs, half-considering pushing him away, but then Claude tossed the hairbrush aside and cupped the side of Lorenz's neck instead, leaning in to whisper against his ear. 

"I tried over and over to get you to try that with me," he said, his voice low and gravelly, like the way he sounded when they made love first thing in the morning. "Are you _still_ too embarrassed to try?"

Lorenz shuddered. "It's—unhygienic."

Claude chuckled softly. His breath stirred the short hairs on Lorenz's neck, making him shudder. "Is that the only thing stopping you?"

"N-no," Lorenz stammered. Claude's lips were against his neck now, just below his ear. He moved down slowly, caressing Lorenz's neck with slow, lingering kisses, until he reached the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Claude," Lorenz murmured, fighting hard against the instinct to melt into him. He slid his hands up to Claude's waist, touching his bare skin. "Let's not talk about it tonight."

"Oh?"

Lorenz slid one of his hands between them, cupping the shape of Claude's cock through his smallclothes. "May I?"

"Please," Claude groaned, rolling his hips into Lorenz's touch. 

Lorenz obliged him, slipping his hand into Claude's underwear and beginning to stroke him slowly. With luck, he thought, Claude would have forgotten the matter in the morning. 

—

Claude did not forget. 

Despite waking up much the worse for wear from his escapades at dinner, Claude insisted on accompanying Lorenz to a tedious council meeting the following afternoon. Lorenz was privately grateful; Claude was a thoughtful and insightful presence when it came to matters of policy, even when somewhat incapacitated. He was quiet for the first half of the meeting, brooding over a startlingly strong pot of tea, until it finally took effect and he was returned almost to his usual self, if a little more brusque and ill-humoured than usual. 

"Are there any more questions?" Lorenz asked, as the meeting drew to a close.

He looked around at the gathered advisers, who each shook their heads. They had all been at the dinner the previous evening as well, and though they hadn't indulged to the degree that Claude had, it was clear that some were feeling the ill effects still. 

"Then you may consider yourselves dismissed, thank you for—" 

"Just a moment," Claude interrupted, leaning forward in his seat. "I have one question, about an issue raised last night."

Lorenz arched an eyebrow. "Last night?"

Claude nodded. "The matter with the kitchen, I was curious. You don't object to having my fingers inside you," he pointed out. "Is my tongue so different?"

The low chatter in the room fell off at once, and Lorenz's advisers suddenly seemed to find a great deal of interest in their own footwear. As Claude's words—too absurd to believe at first—penetrated his mind, Lorenz's insides swooped terribly, and heat rushed to his face. He stared at Claude, frozen in disbelief. Claude stared back at him, a faint smirk playing around his mouth, his eyes almost _glowing_ with challenge. 

"Leave us," Lorenz managed to say, his voice shaking. 

The crowd of advisers tripped over themselves to leave the council chamber as quickly as they could manage. Lorenz fancied that he could hear muffled laughter in amongst their murmuring. He pushed the thought away. 

"Nobody here is under the impression you don't fuck your husband, Lorenz," Claude said, with a smug look on his face.

"Maybe not," Lorenz hissed, rounding on him. "But there is a time and a place for such discussions, and it is _not_ while I'm conducting matters of state."

Claude's lip curled. "I believe you had already dismissed the meeting."

"Claude," Lorenz said, enunciating his name with icy precision. "I am perfectly happy to discuss our activities when we are in private. I will _not_ tolerate you humiliating me in front of my subjects."

There was an agonising pause. They glowered at one another, and Lorenz clenched his fists so tightly that his nails cut into his palms painfully. Finally, Claude inclined his head. "Very well. I accept the terms." There was a pause, while Lorenz stood frozen, still shaking with silent fury, then Claude took a step closer to him and reached for his hand. "And I apologise," he said, lifting Lorenz's hand to his mouth and kissing his knuckles softly. "That was unfair of me." 

Lorenz swallowed past the hot, sticky anger in his throat and nodded. "Thank you." 

"Besides," Claude added, his eyes sparkling over Lorenz's hand, "I'm not sorry for scandalising those crusty old men." He chuckled quietly. "Did you see their faces?"

"Don't you think it's a little soon for you to be making light of the situation?" Lorenz said coolly, hoping Claude wouldn't notice the faint hint of amusement playing at the corner of his mouth.

Claude moved closer, pulling Lorenz's arm around his neck, and slipping his own around Lorenz's waist. "Imagine what they'd say," he murmured, walking Lorenz back two steps to the conference table, "if they walked in and caught you fucking me over this table."

"Ah—" Lorenz gasped softly as his thighs hit the edge of the table, and Claude continued to press into him. "A-and why would I be doing that?" he asked, doing his best to maintain his composure. It was never an easy matter around Claude, particularly not when the other man was pressing close to him in this manner, clever fingers finding their way into his clothing. 

"I thought you might want to punish me," Claude purred, tilting his head to nuzzle Lorenz's jaw. "Take me right here, where anyone might catch us…"

Lorenz swallowed thickly. "That—doesn't sound—like much of a punishment," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady while Claude began to apply his teeth to his neck. 

Claude gave a low chuckle, hot breath warming Lorenz's skin even through his clothes. "That depends how hard you fuck me."

Lorenz's mouth twitched. "You're going riding with the Ambassador at dawn tomorrow."

"Am I?" Claude asked innocently, as he worked his way up Lorenz's neck to his chin. "Then I suppose you'd better be gentle with me."

"I—am _not_ —going to do _that_ in the council chamber," Lorenz insisted in an admittedly breathy voice. 

"Oh, be quiet and kiss me," Claude said, his voice warm with laughter. 

Huffing, Lorenz lowered his chin and surrendered to Claude's soft mouth. As they kissed slowly, Lorenz slid his fingers into the other man's hair and breathed in his familiar, comforting scent. Claude's hands circled his hips, thumbs stroking in, caressing him through his clothing. They were unlikely to be disturbed, particularly after Claude's outburst, news of which would no doubt be halfway to the kitchen by now, but Lorenz still resisted the notion of giving in to Claude's demands. 

"Lorenz," Claude sighed between kisses, leaning into him heavily. He was close enough for Lorenz to feel the beginnings of his arousal. "Saints, I want you…"

Colour flooded Lorenz's cheeks. "Can't it wait until tonight?"

Claude groaned, and pressed his forehead against Lorenz's cheekbone. He breathed in deeply, his fingers still digging into Lorenz's hips. "If that's what you want," he said, with obvious reluctance. 

Lorenz cleared his throat, weighing the benefits of giving in to Claude. There were a great many. "Alternatively," he ventured, "I don't have any meetings for the next hour. If we're quick…"

Claude beamed up at him.

"But _not_ in the council chamber," Lorenz finished as sternly as he could manage.

"Then we'd better hurry," Claude said, seizing hold of his wrist. 

—

After the Ambassador's departure back to Dagda, they each had busy schedules planned for several weeks ahead. Certain visits and arrangements were long overdue, and so they passed the next month or so with scarcely a moment in each other's company. 

When finally they were both at home together, Lorenz had plans for a private dinner, a quiet evening alone, only to be called away on urgent business with the members of the Alliance. 

It was late when he returned, tired and disheveled from traveling. Claude came to his rooms as he was changing, coming up behind him to slip his arms around Lorenz's waist. 

"Claude," Lorenz sighed, covering his hands.

"You look weary." 

Lorenz leaned back against him with a sigh. "You always know just what to say."

Claude didn't rise to the bait. "I've asked the servants to bring you some supper, I'll have them draw a hot bath to follow." He paused, pressing a kiss to the nape of Lorenz's neck. "Perhaps I'll read to you, if you're good. I picked up a book the other day I think you'd enjoy."

"Oh," Lorenz sighed happily. He squeezed his fingers around Claude's hand. "Yes, my love. I should like that very well."

"Should you?" Claude teased, chuckling softly. He kissed Lorenz again, mouth lingering against his skin. "Then it would be my pleasure."

He retreated to allow Lorenz to change, and eat the cold supper a servant brought for him. A bath was drawn for him while he ate, and he stepped into it gratefully after undressing a second time and knotting his hair up out of the way. It was wonderful to sink into the hot water, to let his cares melt off him, the tightness in his back begin to unwind. 

Claude joined him shortly after. Lorenz hadn't thought to send a message for him, but Claude seemed to have a sixth sense that told him whenever Lorenz was in a state of undress. Claude had walked in on him more times than Lorenz could count when they were still in school, knowing eyes dragging over him slowly. Heat washed over him now at the memory. They hadn't liked one another in school, not in that way; even if they had, Lorenz's principles would never have allowed him to make a serious match with someone like Claude. But he couldn't help thinking of how it might have been: stolen kisses between classes, sneaking into one another's rooms in the night, how easy it would have been. Once, Lorenz had heard Claude bedding someone in the room beside his. He'd been shocked at the time to realise it was a man, and startled by his own violent arousal in response to the noises. 

It was then that Claude happened upon him, as Lorenz reclined in the bath, his eyes closed and his head full of images replacing that young man with his own younger self, picturing he and Claude entwined on that little, book-strewn bed. 

"My my," Claude said in a low voice, startling him out of his fantasy. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Lorenz's eyes snapped open to find Claude standing over him, looking down at him with an indulgent expression, his face lit with amusement. His gaze flickered deliberately down Lorenz's body, and Lorenz followed his gaze to find that his arousal was quite evident, his cock standing up out of the water.

"Ah," he said, looking up at Claude once more. "I was—thinking of something."

"Me, I hope," Claude said, shrugging off his robe and rolling up his sleeves.

Lorenz nodded. "Yes, actually."

"Do tell." Claude knelt beside the bath and trailed the fingers of one hand in the warm water, reaching up to brush a strand of Lorenz's hair back behind his ear with the other. "I'm intrigued."

"You're a narcissist," Lorenz accused gently.

Claude chuckled, and moved his hand so that his knuckles brushed the outside of Lorenz's thigh below the water. He grinned when it elicited a soft gasp from Lorenz. "Perhaps," he allowed, letting his hand brush down the length of Lorenz's thigh to his knee. "But I'd like to hear it all the same."

Lorenz swallowed thickly. "I was thinking of our time at the academy."

Claude's eyebrows shot up. "Now this I _must_ hear."

"Claude," Lorenz sighed, his mouth tilting up regardless. He glanced aside, trying to suppress the gentle shudder that ran through him when Claude's knuckles brushed against his cock. "Very well, I shall tell you, but don't make fun."

"I'll do my best," Claude promised, which was as close to an oath as he was likely to get. 

Lorenz cleared his throat. "You'll remember that our rooms were adjacent. I could hear you sometimes, through the wall." He glanced across at Claude, but Claude continued to watch him patiently, still lightly stroking Lorenz as though the touch might be accidental. "I did not make a habit of listening," he said, before Claude could tease him. "But one night you had...company. You were...louder than usual."

"Ah," Claude said, eyes sparkling. "What was I doing?"

"You know very well," Lorenz shot back. "I don't know who was with you. Another young man. The two of you were very...vigorous."

Claude laughed softly. Lorenz was unsurprised to see that he didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed. "I imagine so. I apologise for my lack of consideration."

"Nonsense," Lorenz said, waving a wet hand dismissively. "There's no need. It was more than ten years ago. You were young."

A brief silence followed his words, but Claude broke it after only a few moments. "So," he said, curling his fingers delicately around Lorenz's cock beneath the water. Lorenz began to sense that he was in more trouble than he'd realised. "Do you enjoy listening?"

"No!" Lorenz said, turning to him in horror. "Absolutely not! I was—I was merely—"

When he broke off awkwardly, Claude smoothly took over, stroking him very slowly as he spoke. "Merely what, dear one?" he murmured. 

"I—was thinking of us," Lorenz said, trying to keep a steady tone. "Together, in school."

Claude raised an eyebrow again. "Indeed? I thought you couldn't stand me back then."

"Of course I could," Lorenz huffed. "I'll admit that you were...very trying. But I have always admired you."

"And I you," Claude purred, leaning closer to kiss him. He lingered, his soft beard tickling Lorenz's cheek. "Tell me more," he whispered, squeezing his hand lightly around Lorenz's cock. "Did you imagine it was you in that bed with me?"

Lorenz's throat was tight. He swallowed. "Y-yes."

"How do you think it would have been, between us?"

"I—I don't know," Lorenz admitted, letting his head fall back as Claude began to stroke him more firmly. "I—had no experience back then."

"And yet I'm sure you would have tried to lead the dance," Claude teased, skimming his lips over Lorenz's wet throat. 

Lorenz laughed softly. "What—n-nonsense," he gasped. 

"I would've made you suck my cock," Claude growled in his ear. "I would've put you on your knees, and held you by your hair."

"O-oh, Claude—" Lorenz moaned, lifting his hips to meet Claude's agonisingly slow movements. 

"You would have protested," Claude went on, moving his lips to the side of Lorenz's neck, pressing a soft kiss below his ear. "But I think not that much."

"No, not much," Lorenz agreed breathlessly, his eyes still tightly closed. "Not for you."

Claude laughed softly, then took Lorenz's earlobe between his teeth and bit down. "Shall I bring you off, my sweet?" he purred, slipping his other hand beneath Lorenz's neck, turning his head to kiss him. "Mm?"

Sighing, Lorenz pushed a wet hand into Claude's hair, seizing a handful of it. "Claude," he moaned against the other man's lips. "Oh, Claude—please—"

Nudging his head aside once more, Claude applied his mouth to Lorenz's throat and tightened the loose grip around his cock. He sucked at the hollow of his neck and quickened his strokes, and Lorenz was soon spending in his hand, allowing himself to cry out softly as he reached his peak. Claude was gentle with him as he crested and began to come down, his touch light and his lips soft. Lorenz turned to him, clutching at his hair, his shirt, leaving damp marks on him as he urged Claude back to his mouth and kissed him deeply, imbuing it with all the longing of the past month, and beyond, the many lonely hours they'd each spent in recent months. 

"Are you alright?" Claude murmured when Lorenz released him enough to speak. 

Lorenz nodded. "Quite—quite alright."

Claude chuckled. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, my dear," Lorenz sighed happily. He cupped Claude's face, kissing him again slowly. "I've missed you terribly." 

"And I you," Claude said, gazing at him with open adoration. 

Lorenz's heart trembled in his chest. It was still amazing to him, even after all these years, that someone as miraculous as Claude cared for him as he did. He ran his gaze lovingly over Claude's face; he seemed tired, and slightly more unkempt than usual, his beard a little thick, his eyes dark from lack of sleep. His smile was untouched: always mischievous, always perfect. 

As Lorenz thought it, Claude's fingers crept down between his open legs and stroked the sensitive skin behind his balls, making him startle and moan.

"Have you enough energy left for this?" Claude asked in a low voice. 

Lorenz nodded eagerly, and didn't resist as Claude took one of his knees and hooked it over the edge of the bath so his foot was dangling. 

"You're so beautiful," Claude purred, kissing the corner of Lorenz's mouth as he stroked him slowly up and down, creeping lower and lower until he reached the sensitive, puckered skin around Lorenz's hole. He circled his fingertip over it, pressing in lightly, the faint promise of more. 

"Don't—don't _tease_ , my love," Lorenz said breathlessly. 

Claude grinned at him, laying his cheek against his arm with his gaze fixed on Lorenz's face. "But you know how I love to tease you," he murmured. 

"I am— _ah_! Quite—quite aware," Lorenz replied, returning his gaze. 

"But I appreciate that you're tired," Claude said in a low voice, pressing the tip of his finger in more firmly. "So we can hurry things along."

They did indeed move more quickly after that. Once they'd achieved as much as they could with Lorenz still in the bath, Claude helped him up and bundled him in a towel, before the pair of them retired to the bedchamber to continue.

"You know," Claude said, as he lay Lorenz naked upon the sheets and crawled over him with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Now would be the _perfect_ time to let me try something new."

Lorenz sighed as Claude began to trail kisses down his chest, then his hip. "What precisely did you have in mind?" 

Claude glanced up at him, his eyes wicked. "My tongue," he murmured. "Between your legs."

Realising Claude's meaning, Lorenz closed his legs with a yelp. "Certainly not!"

"Why not?" Claude asked, pouting a little. "You were worried about hygiene, you're not getting any cleaner than you are right now."

"Claude, please," Lorenz said, his face flushing. He cast about for some excuse. "I—I just want to be near to you tonight. You and I, face to face."

Claude's expression softened. He held Lorenz's thigh, pressing his cheek against his bare skin. "I want that too," he said quietly. He kissed the sensitive skin of Lorenz's inner thigh, then moved up to capture his mouth in a slow, longing kiss. "I'm not trying to push you, sweetheart," he said softly, cupping Lorenz's jaw. He smiled and kissed Lorenz's cheek. "Let's forget about it."

"Very well," Lorenz muttered, relaxing into him. 

They soon rekindled their earlier fire, and it seemed mere moments had passed before Claude was rocking into him slowly, Lorenz supple and stretched from Claude's oily fingers, ready and more than willing to accommodate him. Their lovemaking was slow and tender, the first time in a long time that it hadn't felt rushed or urgent. Lorenz felt almost as though he were being rocked to sleep, with Claude's strong arms around him, the lullaby of his soft moans. 

It seemed hours before they found their completion, and Lorenz was asleep before Claude had even softened inside him, the ghost of Claude's lips against his brow. 

—

Lorenz woke late the next day, sleep falling from him heavily. His disorientation was the first clue that he'd slept longer than he meant to. His second was the bright sun streaming through the drawn curtains. Lorenz stumbled out of bed, wincing at the tenderness between his legs. He reached down to explore, but found himself mostly clean, and his heart shivered a little at the realisation that Claude must have cleaned him up after he fell asleep. 

Drawing on some clothes, Lorenz walked out into their shared rooms to find Claude bent over some papers, a cup of tea forgotten at his elbow. He raised his head at the creak of the door, a mischievous smile cutting across his tired face. 

"I thought you were going to sleep all day."

"I might have," Lorenz said, frowning as he crossed over to him. He bent down to kiss Claude's tousled hair, running his fingers through it to restore some semblance of order. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Claude shrugged. "You were so tired last night, it seemed you needed the rest."

"Mm...perhaps," Lorenz allowed. "You look as though you could do with a break yourself."

"Would that I could," Claude said, shaking his head. "I've been called away again to Almyra. I leave tomorrow."

A chill settled over Lorenz, but he swallowed down his sigh. He'd known when he and Claude decided to marry that things would be this way. Still, Claude knew him too well not to sense his reaction, and he put his hand over Lorenz's where it lay against his shoulder. 

"It will only be for a week or two," he promised, tipping his head back to look up at Lorenz. "And after that we can spend some real time together, I promise." He grinned. "Perhaps we can even take a holiday."

"A holiday." Lorenz's mouth twitched. "I believe I've heard of them." He looked at the spread of papers on the desk, running his fingers through Claude's hair once more. "Is this in preparation for your trip?"

Claude nodded. "There's a territory dispute I'm meant to help settle. If I'm lucky, nobody will try and kill each other before I get there."

Lorenz raised an eyebrow. "And hopefully not after you get there, either."

"Quite," Claude said. He pushed back from his desk to stretch, then stood and began to pace slowly. 

Lorenz's gaze fell upon a small, leather bound book half hidden by a stack of papers. "What's this?" he asked, reaching for it.

Claude didn't look round. "Hm?"

"This book," Lorenz said, already flipping it open. Several pages had been marked, and he turned to one curiously. It appeared to be a book of poetry, and Lorenz cast his eyes over the page.

_it was not the dewy shine of his eyes_  
_that I Ionged for, nor the plump, inviting curve_  
_of his full, soft lips. I craved his_  
_most bitter flavour_  
_that could only be found between the valley_  
_of his soft, thick thighs._  
_My tongue ached to delve_  
_into that valley, its dark pool, to taste_  
_the warm waters there._  
_I would tease him apart, slowly_  
_bringing him to the edge_  
_of ecstasy, his body beginning_  
_to loosen around me,_  
_as my tongue laps like a gentle wave_  
_at his dark_  
_sea-hollowed cave_

Lorenz snapped the book shut, his face aflame. It was a long time since he'd felt the hot shame of falling into one of Claude's traps, and the sting was all the more acute for it brought with it the memory of past humiliations.

"What is this?" he demanded, waving the book in Claude's direction. 

Claude, mid-stretch, straightened up and glanced over. "Ah! That's what I'd intended to read to you last night, before we got distracted." He smiled so sweetly, quite content with his subterfuge. It made Lorenz's blood sizzle.

"Dirty poems?" Lorenz sneered.

"Yes," Claude replied, unabashed. "Although it seems a little unfair to reduce such beautiful work to the same sphere as bawdy jokes and naughty limericks."

Lorenz gritted his teeth, and drew his robe more tightly around himself. "Did you think this would sway me?"

Claude merely looked puzzled. "Sway you to what?"

"To letting you—use your mouth on me!" Lorenz said crossly. When Claude continued to stare at him, uncomprehending, Lorenz huffed before adding, " _Down there._ "

"Ah," Claude said, a faint smile touching his mouth. "Perhaps. But I—"

"I've already told you my feelings on the matter," Lorenz said sharply. 

Claude's face clouded. "It's just poetry, Lorenz."

Lorenz bristled. "Nothing is ever _just_ anything with you, Claude," he said, scowling. "This isn't _just_ poetry," he said, waving the book around crossly. "It's just a…another _trick_."

Surprise struck Claude momentarily speechless. He stared back at Lorenz, his eyes wide, soft lips parted. At once, Lorenz saw that he'd gone too far. He tossed the book down on the desk and took a step toward Claude, opening his mouth to take back his words.

"A trick," Claude repeated quietly, his mouth flattening to a taut line. He lowered his gaze, his shoulders creeping higher. "Do you really believe I only want to trick you, Lorenz?" Claude asked softly, his voice cool, tightly controlled. 

"No!" Lorenz said quickly. "Of course not, I only—"

"All the years we've been together," Claude continued. He lifted his gaze to Lorenz's again, and the look on his face was a terrible thing, withdrawn and bitter. "You think—what? I only see something to gain here? That I want to trap you into giving me what I want, and damn your feelings on the matter?"

Lorenz felt he may cry, his eyes stinging. He bit the inside of his cheek to stay the feeling. "You've been trying to talk me into it for weeks," he said defensively. "You cannot deny that."

Claude narrowed his eyes. "I've been flirting with my husband," he said coldly. "What crime is there in that?"

"None, of course," Lorenz said, faint desperation creeping into his tone. He'd allowed this conversation to run away from him. "It's just—"

"Just what?" Claude snapped.

Lorenz grimaced. "Please, let's start again, I fear I've expressed myself badly."

There was a pause. Then, "No," Claude said, with a humourless smile. All the softness was gone from his face, while his voice was deceptively gentle. "No, my dear. You've made yourself quite clear."

"Claude—"

"What now?" Claude asked, weary. "You wish to take it back?" He shook his head, his voice almost a whisper when he continued, "That bell has been rung, Lorenz."

Lorenz stood, opening and closing his mouth uselessly.

"I should pack for my journey," Claude said, turning away from him. 

"Claude, wait—"

Claude paused, his shoulders stiff. He shook his head slowly. "That's enough, Lorenz."

Lorenz closed his mouth. He watched as Claude retreated into his own bedchamber and closed the door firmly behind him.

—

Although they bickered often, fights between them were rare, and Lorenz found himself at a loss for how to address the mess he'd made of things. 

Rather than wait for the following morning as planned, Claude left that evening, slipping a curt farewell note under his door. Lorenz fumed as he read it the following morning, before throwing it into the fire and stalking down to the training grounds to practice lance drills until his anger waned. 

Lorenz was not too proud to see that he had behaved badly, more angry with himself than with Claude. 

When he had exhausted himself, Lorenz walked up to his rooms and sat down at the desk. Claude had taken his papers with him, but the book still lay untouched where he'd left it. Lorenz turned to another of the marked pages.

_When I tire, the sound of his voice_  
_is the song that lifts_  
_my weary heart._  
_When I ache, his hands are a salve_  
_that soothes._  
_He is my soul._  
_He is my soul._

Lorenz put his hand over his mouth. His eyes stung again, and this time he didn't resist it. 

After composing himself, Lorenz drew out his writing paper and a quill, and attempted to compose a letter to Claude. He made several attempts, each time casting the paper aside with a sigh. Nothing he wrote seemed to convey the depth of his feeling, and he could not help picturing Claude's derisive laughter over his stilted attempt at an apology. After an hour or so, he sat back in his seat and breathed deeply. 

He was being foolish, he knew it well. Claude was never spiteful, and he had little taste for vengeance. Lorenz would have to do much worse for Claude to mock him in that manner. Still, he couldn't shake the image of Claude's face, or the words that had haunted him all day and night. _That bell has been rung_. 

Lorenz groaned and covered his face with both hands. He knew it well. There were things you never said when you had been in a relationship as long as they had, no matter how much you might wish to hurt them in the heat of an argument, and Lorenz had let himself slip. 

Dejected, he reached for another slip of paper, but before penning a missive to Claude, he instead wrote to the only other person he trusted to console him over this. 

—

"I was so thrilled to receive your invitation," Ferdinand said, waiting until Lorenz took his seat before seating himself at the table. It was just over a week since Claude's departure, and while he hadn't replied the letter Lorenz finally drafted, Ferdinand had responded at once. The servants had already laid out tea; Lorenz's customary bergamot, and a sweet fruit blend for Ferdinand, similar to the Southern blend he preferred, and alongside that a dish of freshly baked, steaming muffins. "Hubert sends his regards, of course," Ferdinand continued. "And to His Majesty. I trust he's in good health?"

"Oh, Claude is always in good health," Lorenz said, wrinkling his nose. "It's rather irritating in a way. In five years I've never even seen him catch a cold."

"Indeed?"

They fell into casual conversation for a short time, catching up on one another's business, and mutual acquaintances, but Lorenz's thoughts kept turning inexorably to Claude. 

"Pass the butter, would you, old thing?" Ferdinand asked, though his words failed to penetrate the fog of Lorenz's distraction.

Lorenz looked up at him, blinking. "I—I'm so sorry, what did you say?"

"The butter," Ferdinand said, gesturing somewhat impatiently. "Are you quite well?"

"Yes, yes," Lorenz muttered, faint heat tingeing his cheeks. He picked up the butter dish and passed it to Ferdinand, who began to apply butter liberally to one of the muffins. "I'm fine, it's just—I have something on my mind, I apologise."

Ferdinand lifted an eyebrow at him. "Something you wish to discuss?" he asked, before tucking into his muffin with enthusiasm.

Lorenz bit his lip. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't invited Ferdinand here partly in the hopes that he could discuss the matter with him; Ferdinand was, after all, experienced in the manner of sharing his life with a stubborn, secretive man. "Have you and Hubert…" he began, his flush deepening as he sought the right words. "Have you ever had any...difficulties, in the bedroom?"

There was a weighty pause. Lorenz resisted the urge to check over his shoulder and ensure they were still alone. 

"Why, you poor thing," Ferdinand said after swallowing his mouthful, his brow creased in an attempt at sympathy, which only made him appear rather constipated. "I'm...sure Claude will understand," he went on, reaching out to cover Lorenz's hand with his own. "It happens to the best of us, now and then." He gave Lorenz an encouraging smile, and then he began to laugh. "Of course, if you were one of our studs, it would be a much simpler matter—"

"My dear," Lorenz said, interrupting him. "What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

Ferdinand blinked at him, then his own cheeks coloured and he cleared his throat. "Well…" he began, hedging his words. "When you have a stud who can't… _perform_ …"

Lorenz stared at him. 

"It's really quite normal," Ferdinand assured him quickly.

"What makes you think my performance is inadequate?" Lorenz hissed. "And why would you assume that _I'm_ the one who can't perform? 

Ferdinand sat back, frowning. "Then—" he said, and paused, looking stricken. "Don't tell me...von Riegan?"

"Of course not!" Lorenz exclaimed, quite exasperated. "I can assure you, we have _no_ problems in that department."

"Ah…" Ferdinand at least had the decency to look a little sheepish, which went some way to soothing Lorenz's ruffled feathers. He cleared his throat again, and began to butter another muffin. "So, it's something else?"

Lorenz nodded miserably. It had seemed like a good idea to talk to Ferdinand about this. Someone he could trust. Someone who had probably been through similar experiences, if not exactly _this_. But now, the thought of speaking it aloud made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. "You wouldn't believe what he's trying to get me to agree to."

"Well?" Ferdinand asked through his mouthful. "Don't keep me in suspense, old thing."

Lorenz grimaced, hesitating. And here was the rub: to seek advice about his situation, he would first have to explain it. He took a deep breath, preparing himself. He had faced far worse dangers than this. "First, let me make it clear that we enjoy a very healthy and varied sex life."

Ferdinand nodded. "I would never have doubted it." 

Somewhat appeased, Lorenz touched his tongue to his bottom lip as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Claude wants—that is, he's so eager to show me—" He broke off, sighing. "I don't suppose you know the euphemism _to clean up the kitchen_?"

There was a pregnant pause. Ferdinand stared at him, looking bewildered.

Lorenz shook his head. "I suspected as m—"

"Lorenz," Ferdinand interrupted curtly. "Why, in the name of the goddess, would you deny him that?"

Lorenz floundered. "I—"

"More to the point," Ferdinand continued, "why would you deny _yourself_ that?"

"Well, I—"

Ferdinand squinted at him. "He didn't ask you to...do the cleaning?"

"Certainly not," Lorenz said, giving an airy sniff. "He knows how I feel about such matters."

"Then you only have to lay back and enjoy it?"

Lorenz suddenly felt very warm. He fanned himself delicately. "You don't sound nearly as scandalised as I'd hoped," he said, wrinkling his nose. 

"Absurd," Ferdinand replied, shaking his head. "What a notion, indeed. I cannot speak for von Riegan in particular, of course, but speaking in general terms I cannot tell you what delights you're denying yourself, my friend."

"Delights?" Lorenz hissed, a trace of urgency creeping into his tone. He took in Ferdinand's passionate expression, the conviction in his dark eyes, and the faint flush dusting his cheeks. The sudden realisation made Lorenz's jaw drop. "You don't mean—Hubert?" he asked, voice dropping to a stage whisper as he leaned closer. "Does he really?"

Ferdinand beamed at him, and reached for the basket of muffins with a triumphant expression. "With _great_ enthusiasm."

"I...see," Lorenz said, frowning. He sat back in his seat, watching as Ferdinand buttered his third muffin with gusto. "You know, my dear," Lorenz said wearily, "it's very trying to watch you sit there eating muffins in that heartless way when I am suffering."

"Well, I do beg your pardon," Ferdinand replied, blinking at him. "But I did ride for four hours to get here, all because you were in need of cheering up."

Lorenz huffed. "What cheek! You came because you were lonely without Hubert."

"So we were both in need of company," Ferdinand replied, turning his nose up. "I don't see what that has to do with me eating muffins."

"I merely fail to understand how you can sit there eating them so calmly."

"How else should I eat muffins?" Ferdinand asked, jamming the knife back in the butter with a little too much force. "I suppose I should behave like a blushing maid, and never mind the butter getting on my best jacket." He took a vicious bite of his muffin, scowling at Lorenz over the top of it. 

"Very well," Lorenz said, sighing again. "Perhaps I may have...overreacted. Slightly."

Ferdinand nodded, chewing with determination.

"I'm not used to feeling—out of my element," Lorenz explained, allowing himself a faint grimace. "I suppose Claude still has a habit of throwing me off my step."

"Isn't that one of the reasons you fell in love with him?" Ferdinand asked with a knowing look. He attempted an enigmatic smile, which was somewhat marred by the crumbs at the corner of his mouth. 

Lorenz felt a flush of warm feeling for him all the same. "I suppose it is," he agreed with a nod. 

—

Ferdinand's visit lasted only two nights, and then Lorenz was left alone again with his thoughts. After he'd overcome his initial reticence to discuss the matter, Ferdinand had in fact given him some rather useful advice, if indeed he intended to indulge Claude eventually. Perhaps it was due to Claude's absence, but Lorenz found his mind turning to the topic more and more. One evening, several days after Ferdinand's departure, Lorenz even found himself returning to the book of poetry, poring over it in great detail. 

The following day took him away from home, to meet with Hilda and her elder brother. They had a number of issues to discuss, and when talks stretched late into the evening, they entreated him to stay rather than make the journey home so late at night. 

When he finally arrived home late the next day, a servant approached him as soon as he stepped through the door.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing low. "I am to tell you that your husband is returned. I believe he is in his rooms."

Lorenz stared at her for a moment in shock, then he hurried past her, racing up the stairs two at a time until he reached their rooms, breathless from running. Sure enough, Claude's things were strewn haphazardly, disrupting the tidy order that had been imposed upon their rooms in his absence. Lorenz's heart grew very full at the sight, and he slipped off his coat and boots without care before going into Claude's bedchamber. 

He lay upon the bedcovers, still half dressed, and fast asleep. Lorenz almost didn't like to wake him, but he had so missed him that he couldn't bear not to greet him. He crossed the room and sat upon the edge of the bed, watching Claude for several moments before leaning over. 

"Claude," he whispered. He placed his hand on his husband's shoulder and shook him gently. "Claude!" 

Slowly, Claude stirred, blinking awake. "Lorenz," he murmured, slipping a heavy arm around his waist. "What time's'it?"

"Late," Lorenz murmured, leaning down to kiss him. Claude's mouth softened against his lips, and Lorenz allowed himself to linger, teasing his mouth apart slowly, letting their tongues tangle languorously. 

"Mm," Claude hummed as they parted, sliding his hand up to grasp a handful of Lorenz's hair. "I was going to protest at being woken, but I've changed my mind. Please feel free to wake me whenever you like."

Lorenz laughed softly, and captured Claude's sleepy mouth again. "I wanted to—talk to you," he mumbled between slow kisses. "I was—mm, _impatient_."

"What is it?" Claude asked, gently clenching his fingers in Lorenz's hair, tugging against his scalp. "Can't we keep kissing?"

"Yes," Lorenz murmured as they parted once more. He smiled at Claude in the darkness, drawing a fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "But first—my dear, I'm so very sorry. I was stupid and selfish, it was foolish of me to lash out in such—"

"Shh, shh," Claude shushed him gently. "'Tis forgotten. Did you not receive my letter?"

Lorenz frowned. "No…?"

Claude sighed and kissed him. "That explains a lot," he said, laughing. "I am grateful for the apology, but let's consider it behind us."

"Very well," Lorenz murmured. He cupped Claude's jaw, and stroked one of his eyebrows with his thumb. "There's one other matter. That… _thing_ you...requested of me." Claude merely peered at him, bemused, and Lorenz cleared his throat softly. "The thing you… _offered_. I've reconsidered. I'd be...happy, to let you try. If you still wish it."

Claude's eyes widened, then after a moment he began to laugh. "Are you—saying what I think you're saying?"

Lorenz was grateful of the dark to hide his blush. "I imagine so, yes," he said. "I will let you, ah—"

"Partake of you?" Claude teased. 

"If you must put it that way," Lorenz replied, too weary to argue.

"How else would I put it?" Claude asked, sliding his hand down Lorenz's back. "I'm going to feast on you—"

Lorenz shuddered. "Claude..."

Claude slid both hands down to grasp Lorenz's backside, pulling him more firmly on top of him. "I'm going to _devour_ you," he said, nudging Lorenz's head aside to press his nose against his throat. "Like a wild animal, I'm going to eat you like prey."

"F-for Cichol's sake," Lorenz groaned, but there was no fight in him. He was hard and aching against Claude's hip, and he sighed and pressed down against the answering heat below. "Claude," he groaned, seeking out the other's mouth again. 

Claude embraced him, and they kissed hungrily, slowly moving against one another. It was too long since they'd been alone together, too long since they'd been able to enjoy one another in this way. When they broke apart this time they were both panting, and Claude's hands were skimming over his back, and flirting with the edges of his smallclothes. 

"Lorenz," he murmured, voice throaty and wonderful. He parted Lorenz's buttocks with his thumbs, groping him through his clothing. "Can I? Tonight?"

Lorenz hesitated. "Not—not tonight," he said, grimacing at the thought. He softened at Claude's obvious disappointment, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Besides, tonight is for me to make things up to you."

"There's really no need," Claude began, but Lorenz shushed him with his lips. 

"Please, my love," he whispered. "I should like to very much."

Claude gave a low groan, and tangled his fingers in Lorenz's hair. "Then I accept."

Pleased, Lorenz reached up to loosen his tied hair, letting it fall around his shoulders. Then he began to move his way down the bed, loosening Claude's shirt, tugging it up so that he could kiss his scarred chest. Claude buried his hands in Lorenz's hair, running his fingers through it and grasping handfuls of it as he worked his way down. 

"Lorenz," Claude sighed, when Lorenz began to tug at the loosened fastening of his breeches. 

"It's been too long since I had you in my mouth," Lorenz said fiercely. 

Claude laughed, low and delicious. "I haven't even bathed since I left Almyra." 

"I don't care," Lorenz insisted, surprised to find that he meant it. He'd missed Claude's warmth and bulk, but most of all he'd missed his scent, the taste of his skin. "Let me taste you."

"Don't say you weren't warned," Claude murmured, reaching down to assist Lorenz in ridding himself of his clothing. 

His cock was already hard, and he shuddered when Lorenz curled long fingers around him. "A-ah, Lorenz," he sighed, arching his back. "Mm, I've missed this."

Lorenz hummed his agreement, trailing his mouth down Claude's hip before nuzzling the velvet heat of his cock. He smelled musky, unwashed for a day or two, but not off-putting. Lorenz didn't waste his time teasing; he opened his mouth to taste Claude on his tongue, before taking him to the back of his throat. 

Claude cried out, his fingers clenching in Lorenz's hair. "Oh—Lorenz, sweetheart—"

Lorenz broke off for a moment, panting. "Use me, my love," he breathed, dragging his eyes up to Claude's face. "Please."

Claude slid his hands down to cup Lorenz's face, and used his thumb to trace Lorenz's lower lip, pressing down on it firmly. His eyes were dark with want. "You don't have to," he said, his voice rough. "I told you, it's behind us—"

Lorenz turned his head a fraction, catching Claude's thumb between his teeth, then drawing it into his mouth. He sucked it slowly before releasing it. "It's not about that," he murmured. "I want you to do it."

Sliding his hands back into Lorenz's hair, Claude gently guided him down again. When he was younger, Lorenz had expected to find such an act distasteful. He'd never known how deeply he could yearn for someone, or how much going to his knees for the man he loved could feel like worship. It thrilled him now to submit himself to Claude's desires, to feel the weight of Claude's hands on him, to taste the bitter tang of his building pleasure on the back of his tongue. 

Claude spent quickly, reaching for Lorenz almost before he could swallow his mouthful. He kissed the taste of himself out of Lorenz's mouth, stroking their tongues together eagerly, running his hands over Lorenz's chest and neck, and trailing through his hair. 

"I love you," Claude gasped, pawing at him hungrily. He cupped Lorenz's head between his warm hands, Lorenz's hair spilling between his fingers. "Lorenz—I don't care what we do or not in bed, it doesn't matter. Just know that I—"

"I know, my love," Lorenz whispered back, pressing his forehead against Claude's tightly. "I know." 

—

It was several days after their reunion, and they had finally carved out a day to themselves, with no responsibilities hanging over them whatsoever. The servants were under strict instructions not to disturb them for anything short of war breaking out again, and Lorenz was feeling particularly indulgent after a morning spent enjoying his husband's company with a bath and a lazy, drawn-out breakfast. 

"Tonight," he said, crossing to the window and looking out at the streets below. "I thought we might—try something new." 

"Are you sure?" Claude asked, following him to the window and slipping his arms around Lorenz's waist. 

Lorenz huffed. "Don't talk me out of it when I've only just talked myself into it."

Claude chuckled. "I thought Ferdinand talked you into it."

"I suppose he did," Lorenz admitted, colouring. He smiled and leaned into Claude's arms. "But I will admit that your poetry helped."

"I knew you couldn't resist a pretty turn of phrase," Claude murmured, pressing his lips to the back of Lorenz's neck. 

Lorenz swallowed heavily. "It wasn't—just the naughty ones that changed my mind," he said in a low voice. "I read the whole collection, while you were gone. The ones that you marked—" He broke off, his throat suddenly tight. Claude squeezed him more tightly. "I liked them very much," Lorenz managed, pressing his hands over Claude's. 

Claude hummed softly against his skin. "Would that I could convey my own feelings to you in such a pretty fashion."

"But you did," Lorenz murmured. He turned in Claude's arms and cupped his face. "You did, my love."

They held one another's gaze for several moments, though it felt like an age, then Lorenz lowered his head and kissed Claude sweetly. 

"Tonight," he said, his heart skipping in anticipation. "I'll ready myself this evening, and we can—give it a try."

Claude positively _beamed_ at him. "I can't wait." 

—

Lorenz hadn't been so nervous since the day he met Claude's parents, and Claude was doing nothing to help ease his worries. Lorenz had followed Ferdinand's suggestions to the letter, despite Claude's repeated complaints and assurances that most of his precautions were utterly nonsensical. He had, at least, finally given up heckling Lorenz from his bedchamber, leaving Lorenz to complete his ablutions in peace and quiet. He'd cleaned himself thoroughly of course, among other things, and was just finishing up with a touch of rose oil. 

His preparations finally complete, Lorenz stepped out into the bedchamber. "I'm ready for you, my love!" he called out.

Claude didn't stir. 

Lorenz crept closer, beginning to feel a little silly in his nudity. "Claude?" he called again. He moved over to the bed and poked Claude's ankle. "Claude!" 

There was no response except for a faint, but very distinct snore. 

"You are unbelievable," Lorenz whispered at him. Claude was a heavy sleeper, and even were he not, Lorenz was loathe to wake him, knowing how little sleep he'd gotten of late. Still, he made an attempt, clambering onto the bed beside Claude and giving him a gentle shake. "Claude. Dearest, do wake up."

Claude mumbled something and turned over, burrowing more determinedly into his pillow. 

With a sigh, Lorenz gave up and retreated to his own bed. Perhaps they could try again the following evening. 

—

Lorenz was woken sometime later from a deeply erotic dream. He lay for a moment without opening his eyes, although he allowed himself a lazy stretch, luxuriating in the warm aftermath of his dream. He froze when he felt a hand between his legs. He'd fallen asleep on his stomach, and one of his knees was drawn up, leaving him exposed. Opening his eyes, Lorenz found himself looking into Claude's smiling face, and his brain slowly connected the tantalising sensations between his legs with the presence of Claude. 

"What're you doing?" he mumbled sleepily.

Claude laughed softly. "You didn't wake me."

"I tried," Lorenz reproached. 

The sheepish grin Claude gave him in return was altogether too charming. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling closer to kiss Lorenz's cheek. "I'm here now."

"Mm, so I feel," Lorenz said, moving his hips back to meet the slow, insistent press of Claude's fingers.

"You don't mind me starting while you're asleep?"

Lorenz shook his head. "Feels wonderful."

Claude beamed at him. "Just wait 'til I use my mouth." He kissed Lorenz again quickly, then began to shimmy down the bed, making his way between Lorenz's legs.

"W-wait—!" Lorenz said, his thoughts catching up to their conversation. "You can't, I need to—"

"You're perfect the way you are," Claude insisted, putting his hands on Lorenz's hips and urging him onto his knees. 

"Claude—" Lorenz protested, but the complaint died on his tongue when Claude pulled apart his buttocks and leaned in to lick him slowly. He started just above the puckered skin, slick with oil from Claude's fingers, moving up the cleft of his backside to the base of his spine. Then he went back down for seconds, this time skirting around Lorenz's hole and searching lower, nose nudging up behind his balls. He went on in this manner, twice more, teasing, before finally using the tip of his tongue to circle Lorenz's hole. 

Lorenz's stomach fluttered, and he was shocked to catch himself canting his hips back, begging silently. 

"Easy there, sweetheart," Claude murmured, his voice low, breath hot and damp on the back of Lorenz's thigh. One of his thumbs dug into Lorenz's backside, massaging it carefully. "No need to rush, we have all night."

"Claude," Lorenz groaned, unsure whether he meant to protest or beg for more. "I'm—I don't know if I…"

Claude kissed his thigh. "Just relax, sweetheart. You're doing so well."

Lorenz remained unconvinced, but he was curious enough to let Claude continue. He was somewhat grateful for the position, allowing him to hide behind his arms and the long sweep of his hair. Claude's fingers dug into the meat of his thighs, opening him up wider, and his tongue began to flirt once more with the sensitive skin around Lorenz's hole. 

"Claude," Lorenz sighed, suppressing a shiver. 

"Open up for me, sweetheart," Claude growled, digging his thumbs in harder. "Let me in."

Lorenz grasped handfuls of the bedcovers and did his best to relax. Claude's soft beard scraped pleasantly against the backs of his thighs, and he tried to focus on the sensations, and not allow himself to think about _what_ Claude was doing.

Claude took his time, no apparent intention to hurry. He circled the soft, twitching centre of him slowly, then he lowered his head and sucked Lorenz's balls into his mouth, first one, and then both together, lavishing them with his tongue. He slipped his hand through Lorenz's leg to join his mouth, grasping his cock loosely, beginning to work him with slow, gentle movements. Warmth pulsed out from Lorenz's chest, and a deep, urgent arousal settled low in his gut, tugging at the base of his spine. 

When Claude returned his attentions to Lorenz's quivering hole, it felt like magic tingling over his skin. Claude lapped slowly, and then he began to press in with the tip of his tongue, before circling it again slowly. It was maddening, and wonderful, and the conviction that it was somehow _wrong_ only sent a frisson of excitement shivering down Lorenz's spine. Claude _loved_ this, it was clear from his lingering attentions, his teasing, not to mention the soft, appreciative moans he was making no attempt to conceal.

Slowly, he began to move a little faster, to press more insistently, to push his tongue inside again, even to suck at the sensitive rim of flesh. And all the while he stroked Lorenz slowly, with no intention of bringing him to completion. Lorenz began to ache for more, for _something_ , whether to fill or be filled, he couldn't even tell. Just as he was beginning to crest the edge of impatience, Claude withdrew suddenly. 

"On your back, my sweet," he murmured, patting Lorenz's thigh. 

Lorenz lifted himself on shaking hands and turned over. He felt as though there was lightning coursing through his veins, and he could feel that his face was scarlet, his hair in disarray. 

"You're so beautiful," Claude sighed, climbing over him. 

"Preposterous," Lorenz huffed, taking hold of Claude's hips as his husband sat astride him. "Have you even looked in a mirror? You are without flaw."

Claude laughed heartily, his movements jostling his flawless backside against Lorenz's straining cock. "Are you saying that my beauty negates your own? Now who's being preposterous?"

Lorenz clicked his tongue. "I misspoke," he murmured, using his grip on Claude's hip to press his hips down as he rolled up against him. "Flawless but for your narcissism, and your over-enjoyment of arguing with me."

"I enjoy arguing with everybody," Claude said breathlessly, eagerly meeting his movements. "On the subject of my narcissism—tell me, did you enjoy it?"

"Until you stopped," Lorenz said crossly. 

Claude laughed. "I had something else in mind for the grand finale."

"Oh?" 

Reaching down between them, Claude grasped Lorenz's cock and angled it against himself. There was a brief moment of resistance, then his cock slipped in easily, and Claude pushed himself down, sheathing Lorenz entirely. 

Lorenz's breath was punched out of him, and he grasped Claude's hips tightly. "O-oh, oh my dear—"

"I didn't wake you up _right_ away," Claude panted. He grasped one of Lorenz's hands, entwining their fingers. "Fuck me, Lorenz. I want to feel this tomorrow."

"Oh, yes," Lorenz moaned, canting his hips upward to meet Claude's movements. 

They joined slowly at first, simply enjoying one another; running their hands over each other's chests, kissing fingers and palms and wrists, gazing at one another as they timed their slow thrusts together. 

"Do you remember," Claude murmured, holding Lorenz's palm against his cheek, "the first time we did this?"

Lorenz nodded. He reached between them with his other hand to stroke Claude's cock slowly. "I was terribly nervous."

"Were you?" Claude laughed. "I suppose you were. The thing I remember most clearly is not being able to ride the next day."

"Claude," Lorenz reproached gently, smiling. 

"I didn't say it wasn't worth it," Claude said, winking at him. 

Lorenz moved his thumb to stroke Claude's eyebrow, to trace the bridge of his delicate nose. "I'm sorry it took us so long. Took _me_ so long."

Claude grinned. "As I recall, it didn't take you long at all—"

"Claude!" Lorenz complained, trying not to giggle. "I'm trying to be serious."

"Lorenz." Claude turned his head and kissed the heel of Lorenz's hand. "My beautiful, foolish love—"

"Claude—"

"What does it matter what silly mistakes we made back then?" Claude murmured. "You know me. All I care about is our future."

Tears stung Lorenz's eyes. "I know," he said thickly. 

"Come on," Claude said gently, stirring his limbs into motion again. "Show me our future, sweetheart."

"The future of you complaining tomorrow because you cannot ride," Lorenz teased.

Claude laughed loudly. "Yes," he sighed, lifting himself up and then rocking down again with intent. "Precisely."

"Then I won't deny you," Lorenz murmured, rolling his hips to meet him. 

—

Claude happened upon him a few days later, his quill poised over a sheet of writing paper. 

"Am I interrupting your thoughts?" Claude asked, gathering up Lorenz's hair with gentle fingers. 

"Not at all," Lorenz murmured, tilting his head back to look up at him. "I was just writing to Ferdinand."

Claude grinned. "In that case, please convey my deepest gratitude."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," Lorenz said in a snippy tone, his cheeks warming. "Write to him yourself, if you must."

"Perhaps I shall," Claude ventured. "Tell me, what sort of gift do you send someone to thank them for allowing you to taste your husband's hidden delights…?"

Lorenz smiled at him sweetly. "Claude. If you breathe one single word about it, I can assure you that you will never taste it again."

Claude laughed, unconcerned, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "In that case, perhaps I shall have to try and convince _you_."

Lorenz's eyes widened. "Me…?"

"To taste your husband's delights," Claude replied, his eyes sparkling.

"No," Lorenz replied at once. "No, no, absolutely not."

Claude laughed. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> [RT on twitter ](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/1211325200140255235) | [my three houses fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/works?fandom_id=23985107)
> 
> please talk to me about claurenz!!


End file.
